A Touchdown During Halftime

The wind howled and the snow fell on the January afternoon, but my husband and I were warm and snug inside our spacious sixth-floor apartment.  We cuddled naked under a fleece blanket on the couch, watching our favorite football team play their last game of the season.  Yes, I’m a woman who loves sports, and sharing games has been a pastime for me and my husband since we began dating.  Today we were happy, because our team was in the lead.

As the clock ran out on the first half of the game, our attention began to wander from the TV to each other’s naked bodies.  I ran my hands over his face, kissed him longingly, then began to nibble and lick his earlobe, as I know that is a hot-button for him.  Curled up side-by-side as we were, I felt his hardness against me almost immediately, and smiled.  I so love to please my husband, and his erection was a sure sign I was doing that, and could do more.

However, on this afternoon, he had other ideas.  He wished to give to me first.  He slipped off the couch, rolling me onto my back in the process.  He knelt down beside me, and began gently kissing my lips, our tongues intertwining and playing together. Even after marriage, it still amazes me how much love and tenderness can be conveyed in the meeting of mouths.  His soft mouth moved down my face, to my neck, caressing and licking.  He knows that this is one of my hot-buttons, and small moans of pleasure purred in my throat.  His hands moved further down my body, gently kneading my breasts.  I have always hated my large D-cup breasts, as they sometimes cause me pain, but he loves them, and the pleasure he gives me outweighs the pain I experience.  His mouth followed his hands, and his warm lips drifted across the surface of my breast, barely grazing my nipple several times.  He was teasing me. This arouses and drives me crazy, and he knows it.  I felt my womanhood catch fire and get wet, all in the same instant.  I took it as long as I could, but I desperately needed to touch him, to get my hands and mouth on his body as he was doing to me now.

In a similar rolling motion, I slipped off the couch.  He sat back as I did this, so that I was now lying cradled in his arms on his lap.   This got me no closer to touching him than I’d been before.  I moved to sit again.  “Oh no you don’t,” he whispered, gently but firmly moving my body to the soft carpeted floor.  I giggled, unsure what was to come.  He climbed on top of me, and I thought we were going to make love right then.  But his strong arms pinned mine behind my head, his hands fisted in my waist-length brown hair, and his long legs viced around mine to hold them in place.  Now that he had me where he wanted me, he continued to torture all my heightened nerves with his mouth alone.  I wiggled underneath him, attempting to move my arms. My low quiet laughter told him that I was not fighting in sincerity.  He is a perceptive man, and would have picked up on any change in my voice or body, and released me without my even having to speak the words.  As my playful efforts to free myself increased, his hold on me became stronger.  I thrilled at his muscular body, his physical strength to hold me in spite of my struggle.  However, I’m no slouch in strength either, and in a swift jerk, I freed one arm and lifted it to rake my fingers through his hair.  Taking his mouth away from my breast, he taunted “Nice try, sweetie,” and pinned my arm back in its place again.  I continued to struggle for the fun of it, but my heart and spirit gave themselves over to him.  Only trust, love, and pleasure filled me now. I was not in control of myself, I knew it, and I enjoyed it.

Finally my chance came.  He lifted away from me long enough to reposition himself, to bring his mouth lower.  I sprang up, locking him in a tight embrace, then pushing him onto his back.  “My turn now,” I murmured between hard passionate kisses.  “See what happens to you now that you’ve got me all worked up!”  He is taller than me, so I pinned his arms to his sides, and performed the same magic on him with my mouth that he’d just worked on me.  In my tremendously aroused state, I was not in a mood to be gentle.  I nipped and nibbled his earlobes, his cheeks, moving to his neck.  I felt him go rock-hard beneath me.  “You’re all mine, mine, mine,” I growled as I held him.  “I want to devour you!”  In the back of my mind I knew that had he wanted, he could have ended this, but he was allowing me the control now, the power over him now, and that spoke volumes to me about the kind of man he is, about the love and trust he has for me.  I wanted to make sure he knew I valued it, and that he would not regret it.

“I want you inside of me.  Fill me,” I demanded.  Freeing his arms, I raised my body, positioned my opening over his hard penis, then lowered myself on to it.  Unfortunately, I was inexperienced in making love on top, and so my tone changed from aggressive to pleading.  I wanted to maintain the control, but needed his help.  “Teach me, baby,” I implored.  “Show me how to do this right.”  His hands clasped around my hips, guiding my body in the rhythm and motion I needed.  I am a quick study, and soon caught the hang of things.  He moved his hands to my breasts, which hovered over him, and squeezed and ravished them.  I rode him hard and deep, of my own accord now, feeling each time his length penetrated to the back of my vagina.   Our passion built, higher and higher, and I knew we were both close.  Clenching his hands in mine, I continued my rapid movements, and soon felt us release and fly together.

Somewhere during our bliss, the halftime show was over, and our long-forgotten football game had begun again.  Just after we both came, I heard the announcer triumphantly yell, “Touchdown!”  I had no idea which team had scored, and I didn’t care.  All I could think was, “touchdown indeed,” as I collapsed exhausted in the arms of the man I love.